Bad Pickup lines
by freelancer-of-pluto
Summary: York and Carolina watch a training match before some un welcomed thoughts and an idiot in a bikini. Be prepared to want to burn your eyes out with the arrival of Washington wearing some lovely purple and green frilly swimwear.


Title: Bad Pick-Up Lines  
Fandom: Red vs. Blue  
Rating: 15+ for swearing and a kind of not really sexy daydream thing (sexual references) and Washington in a bikini. You have been warned.  
Characters: York, Carolina, Maine, North, South  
Pairing: Yorkalina (York/Carolina)  
Summary: York and Carolina watch a training match before some (un)welcomed thoughts and an idiot in a bikini.  
Excerpt:_His eyebrows raised, he's waiting for an answer, but it takes him by surprise when she leans over to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.  
"It's a 'we'll see'," she says gently. He puts an arm out and rests his hand on her waist. She doesn't flinch or stiffen, rather, she comes a little closer._

-

"Hey Carolina, if I said I liked your armour, would you hold it against me?"

To be honest, he's expecting the elbow in his gut, hard enough to hurt but not enough to bruise.  
"York. That was a terrible pick up line," She says to him. He's just standing there, smiling with an arm over his stomach.

There's a training match scheduled, and York and Carolina are watching from one of the viewing platforms. They're lucky they are alone on that platform, other wise he wouldn't be able to practice his bad pick-up lines on the beautiful red head to his right. They're wearing normal clothes tonight, something the agents would barely get the chance to do. But there she stands, looking fucking amazing in just jeans and an old Grif-ball T-shirt. Knowing her, she's probably stolen it from him after her first night in his bunk, but he's not complaining.

"Is that a yes or a no?"  
His eyebrows raised, he's waiting for an answer, but it takes him by surprise when she leans over to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.  
"It's a 'we'll see'," she says gently. He puts an arm out and rests his hand on her waist. She doesn't flinch or stiffen, rather, she comes a little closer. They watch the training match a little more, North trying to pin Maine down somehow, but he's more focused on the woman beside him. The fact that she's letting him have a hand on her waist is probably getting his hopes up, but he can't

help it. He's only human.

There's a moment when York imagines it, his hands smoothing over her hips while she's moving on top of him. He's only seen her naked twice before (and he swears that the first time was an accident), but the memories of her body are placed into his little daydream. Her red hair free from the ponytail she always wore, the fringe stuck to her forehead with sweat. He just thinks of the feeling of having her knuckles white as they gripped his shoulders, her hips moving up and down and whichever way she wanted, and he'd be happy to give it to her.

Carolina scoffs when Maine throws North to the ground and pulls York from his daydream. Her eyes are on him, green and iridescent.  
"This is going nowhere," she says. He's trying his hardest now not to think of the scene in his head, or his half hard-on, but he's not sure what she's talking about.  
"Huh?"  
"The fight, remember?" She gives him a look like he's an idiot and slips her hands into her pockets.  
"Oh, right, of course," he scratches awkwardly at the nape of his neck, pulling away a little. He's hoping she doesn't notice the little (or big) problem he's having, but he hears a crash and yells from outside the room and the two of them turn to see what it is.

"WASH, GET THE FUCK BACK HERE WITH THAT."  
"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUUUUUCK."

He notices the voices sound like his other team mates, but it wasn't until they burst through the door that he realised that it was Wash and South. York's eyes are wide when he watches Wash almost slip as he makes a tight turn with the female freelancer a hair behind him. But he's slipping and skidding with bare feet, and York and Carolina's faces show an expression of horror. If there was anything that could kill an erection, it was the sight of Washington sprinting in a purple bikini with a green trim.

"Fuck, York, heeeeeeeelp," he screeches as he passes him in a blur. Carolina makes a little noise of horror and disgust, covering her eyes and pressing her face with hands over them onto York's shoulders. He chuckles a little.  
"Sorry Wash, you gotta get out of this one by yourself," he calls.

"You guys are assholes!"

"We know."


End file.
